Exceptional Jess finishes his story Tin Cup : Dark Days by Delahay

Jess Harper, a Civil War vet,was traveling through the west trying to make a life for himself after the war. Jess was robbed by three traveling companions. He found them, killed two, retrieved his possessions, then let the third one, Charlie, leave. Charlie later caught up with Jess, shot him in the back, then aimed a gun at him as he was lying on the ground. Jess was saved by a settler, Abe Klein, and his daughter Helga. While recovering with the Kleins, Jess fell for and marries Helga. When Helga became pregnant, Abe and Jess tried to find someone to help Helga with the baby. The person they found did not work out well so Helga stated she would find someone on her own. She disappeared one morning and was gone for most of the day before returning with an old Native woman, called Oota, who takes charge of preparing for the birth. Early one morning, Jess is awakened by screaming. Helga is in labor. After a very long and tense day, Helga delivers a healthy baby girl. Soon, however, Helga develops a fever and Oota sends Jess up into the mountains to bring back herbs to make medicine and snow to help cool Helga. Oota is able to bring down Helga's fever and she recovers. When she wakes, her first words are, "Why is the baby crying?" Darker days I thought I'd never see at that time. But time held all the cards. What I had been going through were the golden days. The baby was just crying because she was hungry. It was a good thing Oota had brought the goat with her. Its milk seemed to be an acceptable substitute for mother's milk and Helga was in no condition to feed a baby. But she recovered quicker than I expected, and was soon up and about and back to her normal self. “Little Mary grew like a weed. She was the sunshine in all of our lives. Helga and I both really got a kick out of watching Abe having tea parties with Mary and the dolls her mother made for her. Abe proved quite good at making toys for Mary out of things I would never have thought of, rocks, pieces of wood and string. Such simple things that could bring so much joy. “Abe also built this bench we're sitting on. Helga and I would sit on it most evenings, enjoying a few minutes of quiet at the end of the day. I carved our initials in it, just like a schoolboy. They've faded with age, but they're still visible if you look. “I'm glad Abe had the time he did with his granddaughter. We lost him the fall of her twelfth year. He's buried out back, I go out there to talk to him sometimes. I wasn't sure how old he was then, Helga said she was pretty sure he was sixty-eight but said he was never really sure himself. Oota had a real practical way of looking at dying, said we go back to the Earth that we came from, live on in all the plants that grow. I like to think she was right about that. She still took it hard when he passed though. She and Abe had gotten real close over time. I was glad she was there for him, always thought they should have just gone ahead and got married. Don't know why they didn't. I'll tell you this, Abe was the finest man I ever met. “I thought losing Abe was the worst thing that could happen. I just didn't know how much worse it could get. The next winter was the coldest we'd ever seen. Oota went to visit her people, traded some of our salted meat for some blankets. She found most of her people had died from what sounded like small pox. We didn't know then that the U.S. Army had come up with a new way to “handle” the Natives. Seems they decided giving out blankets contaminated with small pox was a good way to get rid of them. We found out about that the hard way, when Oota and Helga both got sick. I thank God every day that he spared little Mary, I don't think I would have wanted to go on living if I'd lost her too. “You said you were Abe's nephew, didn't you? That's a fine recommendation as far as I'm concerned. I'm sorry son, but I've forgotten your name. My mind's not as sharp as it used to be. And what do you call that buggy you rode up in? I ain't never seen one that could get around without a horse to pull it along. Amazing things people are coming up with these days.” “It's called an automobile, Mr. Harper. And my name's Joshua. Uncle Abe wrote to mother and me so much about you and cousin Helga, I feel like I know you. He thought pretty highly of you too. Said he knew you were a good man from the moment he met you. Mother always said Uncle Abe could read a man's soul. She called it a gift from God. I wish I'd been able to travel here while he was still alive. Mother wanted me to go back to the old country to attend Rabbinical school. I haven't been back here long. I'm so glad to finally meet you.” “I'm right proud to hear you say that Abe thought well of me. I have to say, you gave me quite a shock when I first saw you. I swear, you're the spit and image of Abe when we first met, it took me back quite a ways. I did tell you about the first time we met, didn't I? That's right, I did, I remember now. Like I said, my memory's not like it once was. “Mary sure would love to meet you. She's in Denver with her husband and two boys, Josh and Jess. She married a fine man and they're doing well. I wish you could have met Oota., Mary called her Memaw. It's been twenty years now since Oota died and I lost Helga. I'm an old man now, time just slips away on me. “But here, now. I've just been rambling on all this time. You said there was something you wanted to tell me about Abe?” Author Notes Spit and image probably came from 'spirit and image' and was once a common phrase meaning someone looked almost exactly like someone else, usually a relative. There are stories going back to colonial days about giving items contaminated with small pox to Native Americans. The first instance I found related that the British did this in 1763. I've heard and read about other times this may have happened with the U.S. Army doing the same thing.

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